


The People v. Harry Dresden

by Rionarch



Series: There Are Many Here Among Us [4]
Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Humor, Legal Drama, Mild Gore, On the Run, Prison, The Accords
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28254780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rionarch/pseuds/Rionarch
Summary: In the criminal justice system, the people are represented by two separate yet equally important groups, both dedicated to annoying the hell out of Harry Dresden.These are their stories.
Series: There Are Many Here Among Us [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999840
Comments: 24
Kudos: 27





	1. The Banns

**Author's Note:**

> See that character tag there? You're going to be mad for a while. There's also a few other tags I'll be adding at the appropriate time. But this is humor, folks. Maybe not always good but humor.

One of the few perks of a post-titan Chicago was that I had an office again even if I was working out of my own home. You know what it’s like.

A disadvantage was in the months previous Hope had taken the time to explain to me that, “No, Harry. No one uses the yellow pages anymore.” And that she’d get me set up with a website and Yelp page.

“Yelp is when you’re yelling-for-help,” I pointed out to her and like every other women in my life ignored me, but it was okay.

You see all of my technology problems were about to be circumvented in an absolutely marvelous way.

Some of the Svartalves technology works. Hot water was amazing and the Brownies decided the castle was a good enough home to clean again unprompted.

In the turret farthest to the street was the most magnificent ground work. Inland with circle of iron and bronze, warded against ambient technology, was a Windows 95 Desktop computer that one of the Wee Folk would use for me. That’s what should be happening.

“I-I shall l-live and d-d-die at my post,” the Ex-Member of the Za Lord Army sobbed in front of me with Lacuna’s disappointed glare.

Yeah. Yet another fairy has decided that go to fight Outsiders at the Outer Gates was a better life choice than dealing with my phone call and mail.

“I don’t need the Night’s Watch Oath. You can leave and I don’t think Ice Zombies are real but I might have to check on that,” I trailed off and added it to my list of things to ask Molly about the World Wide Winternet. The computer came with an instruction manual and a glossary. “It can’t be that bad?”

Lacuna glared at me and gestured to a pile of papers as tall as me five times across. The fairies transcribing messages only last so long before giving up the ghost. The mail. I haven’t even looked at the mail for days. I’d registered all my important stuff at the Carpenter House. After what had happened last spring Chicagians fell into a couple of camps.

It Never Happened, as preferred by the Accords Council.

Have I Gone Insane? Making therapy a very lucrative market.

This is the Answer to Everything! Zealots, of a sort.

And they all had my number.

…

There were more than a few days that I needed to spend in Arctis Tor so it had made sense to have a few things around- pants, underwear, some coke, and a guitar for one. I won’t lie, it was a better place to be than in the Chicago summer especially after having delivered another body to Mab’s standing army.

It was Mab that found me in her garden, a few malks gathered around listening to me strum along and hum a few of the classics.

“Thank you, thank you. You’ve been a great audience.” I addressed the crowd of frozen over figures imprisoned for the lack of a better term before starting up on the next song.

“Well I tried to make it Sunday but I got so damn depressed that I set my sights on Monday and got myself undressed…” The chords that followed came to a stop when my fingers literally iced over.

I sighed.

“Afternoon, Mab. Not a fan?”

“Not when I know what follows, Sir Knight.” She looked almost like a living ghost in the white walls and stark shadows. Only her lips and eerie green eyes gave any life to the Queen of Air and Darkness. Her shoulders slumped a little. “You’re attendance list is too dangerous or too insulting to place.”

Believe it or not we’ve had this conversation before. There was more to a wedding than just saying ‘I Do’ and kissing one another. Everyone had their traditions and their parties that I (and Lara) had to show up for. Molly had referred to it as a ‘season’ like we’re in some Jane Austen novel.

“Then why not have the company here?” I gestured to the frozen figures of anyone who’d intrigued her, fought her, or in the most desperate times needed help.

My nephew was to be frozen for a year and a day to ensure he was safe. I’d taken to playing in the garden more often. I flexed my fingers and cracked the ice off them to being playing again and reminded Mab that, “The last time any of us arranged a party everyone in Chicago was served a sanction.”

Yeah. My bachelor party. I think there were a few provisions added to the accords afterwards and Bob was terrified to leave his skull for even a few minutes.

“Perhaps. I intend on having a showing now that my sister has returned to her prerogatives,” Mab paused and sat down beside me in a much more luxurious pose than most women could fall into. Sometimes all it took to mend relationships was near death and a titan crawling out from under the earth. “I have favors that I _will_ be calling regardless of your opinion.”

I don’t think I was going to like this in the slightest.

“Your grandfather will be in attendance as will several representatives that did not make it to the peace talks.” She gave me a look that have quelled stronger men and women.

“So will Michael Carpenter,” I strummed along. I knew these moves going in- start easy and escalate from there.

“There is a coalition of ghouls that…expressed their interest.” Misery loved company.

“I’m so glad the Forest People finished their paperwork.” I could nearly see a twitch in her eye but this too went without an argument. It probably made the difference that Michael was retired which was a very unfamiliar word for the Winter Court- it was dead or deader. We didn’t have a Miracle Max on staff either. She said nothing seemingly content on listening to me play along.

“You’re stalling, my Queen.” I’d only ever mocked her. “Isn’t getting worried about an emotional response a _Summer_ problem?” Even if she wouldn’t hear the lyrics for what they were I finished Sister Golden Hair.

“Then perhaps you should not feign an interest in emotions when Marva of the Black court attends your nuptials.” 

I flung the guitar into one of the statutes before I realized what I had been doing.

“I will reanimate that dead heart and _rip it out of her chest_ so she can see it beat out.” The queen looked non-pulsed perhaps even proud.

“It would be impressive. Certainly set the tone for your further relations with other representatives,” I wanted to interrupt. I wanted her to feel every bit of my human rage at the thought of Marva anywhere near my friends and family. The Knight’s Mantle was really good about the Want part and maybe not so much on the common sense.

A study of contrasts, our Mab was dark of hair and eye again.

“Make no mistake Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden.” I shuddered at the use of my full name, “you will _attend_ , you will _participate_ , and this union will _proceed._ ”

Like black ice she vanished leaving me alone. Probably how I wanted to be.

…

We were only three rolls into the game when the doorbell rang at the Borden’s house (now warded with as much oomph as I sneak by with). Andi was frowning and obviously looking at everyone who’d settled in to start the game even if Will’s character sheet was near warn through with edits from the past five minutes. Alex was with us for a visit for few days which was the only reason were weren’t using the FATE system and all of Will’s character edits.

Even Butters looked curious as to who Georgia was letting into game night. What came before their uninvited guest was the smell of food- Gino’s from the way Will nearly wagged his not-tail.

“Everyone, Lara’s come to join us for a game.” Georgia didn’t cringe as much as make a face saying she had no idea what brought this on.

“I come in peace. There’s two meatball subs, salad, and _actual_ pizza,” she glared at me. I liked pizza-pizza, not the lasagna that pretended it was something else. Those pepperoni cups looks far too much like tentacles or some eldritch god. I didn’t need that with my food when I can get it in my own backyard.

Stars and Stones. Did Lara come _in_.

She was dressed in traditional color- white jeans, white leather moto jacket, and for a spark of interest as dove grey shirt that read “Ask me about my Death Star plans”. The good news is there was some worse than me to break the silence-

“Holy shit- you’re Lara Romany!” That’s right. Her porn star name that the other Alphas were now keenly aware of after Marci blurted it out. Her face was so red it looks like her glasses might fog over. She turned over to me, nearly knocking her drink over- Butter’s looked like he was going to finish his beer sooner than later. “ How do you know a porn star?!” She hissed at me while the hostess set up the food next to what we already had: stale chips.

“I met her through her brother…on a porn set.”

“Wait, what?!”Guess I never told Butters about our clandestine first meeting if their reactions meant anything.

“Fan of my work? Oh, and Harry, Arturo wants in on the wedding. Says he’s so happy to have been a part of a love story.” Lara rolled her eyes but I could see the hint of a smile. For a human, Arturo served her needs and was near friends with her. Not that she wouldn’t destroy him if he acted against her, but he’d go quietly and not with a pair of cinderblock shoes.

“Say Marci. If you’re still unemployed-“ She cut me off.

“Never again. I’m never answering your phone if it were the last job in the tri-county area. Not even for a porn star.” Yup. Marci had stars in her eyes. Her stupor ended with Lara tapping a plastic fork on a red solo cup.

“Might I have everyone’s attention? This is to formally announcing the Banns.” It was a hold over tradition of the White Court. They’re speak to the congregation to confirm that there were any arguments to the union- which, despite what movies and TV let me think do not happen at the ceremony.

“On August First you’re all invited to bear witness to the marriage of myself, Lara Raith, to Harry Dresden.” A little over two months away. Our engagement would be formalized in early July and then…here comes the bride.

Is it hot in here or am I just sweating?

Lara slide into the seat next to me, “Seemed a more fitting congregation for you,” she whispered and louder to the group, “I play monk.”

Butters was still gobsmacked.

…

Whatever feelings I may have had there was no reason not to walk Lara to her car.

“Harry, I’m almost afraid to ask.” She slide a few fingers down my shirt sleeve. “When you decided to pull those asinine stunts are you _actually_ rolling die in your head?” Sometimes Lara could be so charming.

“I’ll have you know Mab does it, too.” I grinned at her. “Tried and true method.”

“Really wish you hadn’t told me that.” Whatever she was going to say next was interrupted by a courier.

“Harry Dresden?” I nodded, “You’ve been served.” And handed over an all too familiar packet of papers. I wasn’t on the top ten list of any government office but I’d been served papers before.

Let me tell you something. The joke was always ‘the only thing that is certain is death and taxes.’ And they’re wrong.

The joke is _me_.

Because the only things certain are taxes and –

“Larry fucking Fowler.”


	2. Settling Down

Dear Mr. Harry Dresden,

It has come to the attention of the Accord Nations that you have been brought into the legal circuit regarding matters of magic and belief thereof.

With an outstanding amount of allocution and the regard of your former nation , i.e. The White Council of Wizards, it has been decided that your directive is to not allow the populous to be given tangible proof of magic. You should do well to recall your last meeting and our tumultuous standing at being Known.

Understand that any ramifications from events taken from yourself or disciples will be brought to you direct. We, as a whole, will not dissuade your former nation from pressing their own matters.

Thank you,

The Archive [Ivy, followed in messy handwriting]

…

A few of the people in St. Mary Cathedral looked like they were shocked that I didn’t burst into flame on entering the building with Marci as a wolf by my side. Some days I felt like that, too. There was no threshold holding me back from being welcome here and I imagine I would be for as long as Father Forthill was alive.

“Padre!” I said a bit too loud for everyone looking for quiet contemplation. Forthill was a little shocked to see me so soon, I suppose from how he’s paused what he was tinkering with in the pulpit.

“Harry, greetings.” He answered in way more appropriate manner and giving a hard look to if anything was following me into the Church, “Let’s step into my office.” The room wasn’t changed much- more papers. More funeral processions.

This hadn’t been the Murphy’s diocese or Hendricks’ if he had ever had one. Marci put her paw on my leg.

“I need your help.” The man’s robin blue eyes blinked. He’s made sure to check his calendar. I had been pushing for Forthill to run the marriage ceremony but he’d declined to join in the murder. Between the number of happy couple he’s guided through the years and whatever spiritual acumen he had his declaration of eternal love might _actually_ kill Lara.

“But your wedding isn’t until August. If you’re seeking help in your marriage vows…” Oh, _oh_. A few of my friends had questions on marriage to a sex demon and service to the evilest faerie queen. Molly had floated the idea while back that we could use the vows to get myself out of some of my obligations once we talked her out of an church styled murder. 

“No. I need you _other_ help. It’s Larry Goddamn Fowler.” A radio clock fizzled and burnt out in the hall. “Sorry, Mab Damned. I need a lawyer.”

“I thought the suit dropped when you had been declared dead?” He pulled out another file all for my own. Sure I’d paid another lawyer to deal with it to begin with but that cost time and money. They also didn’t want to return my calls the past few weeks.

Shit. They might be dead.

“I should have thrown him in front of the titan,” I grumbled and unfolded the paper that by now had to have my palm print embedded in it. “That’s part of the reason I need _you_ as my lawyer.” I leaned back and got a little more comfortable,

“The whole thing boils back to the interview with Ortega,” I looked at the clock on the wall. “I warned that magic would break his studio equipment. He didn’t believe, it dragged on.” I swallowed and wished I had a glass of water.

“This suit is… a little different.” I let him read through and make a noise of disapproval.

“I see why you’ve come to me. I’d spoken with Waldo and he had gotten the word around.” Twelve months, twenty months weren’t going to be enough to deal with the shadow of Murphy.

…

“I understand and appreciate you doing this,” I made sure to say for the third time as Marci glared at me. The brain trust was going hard at this one in Butter’s living room with Andi missing, being the only person there with regular business hours.

Forthill sighed again over the papers.

“If you admit to magic that is _fine_. If you _practice_ any visible magic both the White Council and the Accords will go after you.” He’d boiled it down to the same problem that we’d been going back and forth on. Marci was the only one with experience in the entertainment industry (I didn’t want to get the White Court involved at all) who’d dealt with contracts.

“The concept of magic doesn’t even need to be argued. By hosting and highlighting mediums, a wizard, and a priest there’s no base line of what proof is needed other than your word. In any case that would and I think…,” she flipped through the some papers, “yeah, it was handled by insurance. He’s spent more on lawyers than the actual damages.” She wondered out loud.

“Most of that was figured out back in 2007.” Time’s been different. It could have been seven brief years ago, it could have been fourteen. “We’ve got some new problems since then.” Butters’ froze up while opening and closing his mouth.

I really didn’t want to hear it from him.

…

It was four months after the titan had attacked that Rawlins found me, Butters, and Michael at Mac’s.

“Hey Ra-“ He stopped me with a palm up, downed a beer, and joined us. His wallet was plopped onto the table that told a story of his life. A gift, most likely from the kids in his pictures, common folds and creases, a few stains. Plastic had been ripped from other card holders- and the missing groove marks of where his badge used to be. A bit of beer froth was on his moustache.

“I’m officially retired.” That made a club of Two at the table. I waggled my eyebrows at Butters and told him not to think about the odds. “So now I can tell you about the absolute shit show down at HQ.” He leaned back into the chair and looked around.

“Karrin’s body was never found. Neither was the bullet. We can’t get that fucking rat bastard on anything and his buddies in IA are sweeping this under the rug.” I started gripping the table so hard it was going to splinter. Rawlins handed me a post-it note from Tania Raith, who’d been working as a DA.

Harry, It had is larger letters as if it were written in a hurry with a couple of the words highlighted in pink.

Don’t do anything rash that would get me in trouble

RMBR We eat them alive

Tania <3

“The DA’s office can’t do anything either,” I rasped out and clenched my jaw, “won’t find anything.” Because a psychopomp that dressed up as Santa Claus once a year took her body and her soul away. The missing bullet was concerning, though.

“Only bright spot is he can’t go after anyone for his wounds,” Rawlins snorted. “Delusion _made him shoot_ so he can’t tell what or _who_ ,” Rawlins peered at me, “did that to him. Still can’t sit or stand properly.”

I wonder if a séance could get Captain Collin on the phone. I’d have to check with Mort on that one.

…

“Justice served alright. Rudulph’s turned over evidentiary documentation about the Special Investigations cases I’d worked on and his lawyer is using that to boost up their case. That little asshole also tipped off someone that the duel was hosted on that show making it applicable to some by-laws.”

Remember what I said about the different cases of people handling the supernatural? Well, there was also a very organized subset that demanded shadow accountability and due process of law. Should go without saying that Mab hated them.

If she knew that having me almost entirely in her thrall was one Accord sanctioned murder I’d be done for.

Of course if she knew about my two news guests that I was hosting on Demonreach I’d be done for, too. Maggie and Lara’s day out couldn’t have come at a more perfect time to deal with the uninvited guests. Couldn’t let me ex-council members hear about that adventure any time soon.

“Have you considered just settling?” Butters didn’t like living problems. Hell, I should probably tap him into my guests. “For once in your life just pay to make this go away?” Honestly it made me want a doughnut.

“I think we still have the Dresden Disaster Fund.” Marci pipped up. I hadn’t exactly flaunted my share from knocking over Hades’ vault.

“Nope. Got converted to the McAllister In Law Fund,” Georgia’s mother was something else. Will needed his fair share of emotional support ice creams when the first grandpup came around. She’d flip if she found out her daughter was getting and invitation to the Chicago Social Event of the Year, curtesy of the Raith Estate. I’m pretty sure Grimalken was still taking bets about the wedding.

“So that’s it then? I just settle?” The word felt like a curse on my tongue.

“You’re getting pretty responsible these days. It’s the price you pay for being successful.” Butters couldn’t’ help but quip. Father Forthill appeared to be confused but that’s common when you’re around people that quote Star Wars as if it were the scripture.

“This deal is getting worse all the time.” I rubbed my face and sighed up to the ceiling. It all felt very anti climatic. “I’m asking Michael to come. If that bastard is there I might actually rip him in two this time.” Rudolf had been under the employ of the Red Court and had become a dangerous combination: he knew enough to know what points to hit and too absolutely stupid to know when not to.

“That might be for the best. I will indeed serve as your lawyer and I’ll start drafting the settlement.” Forthill gathered up a few things and made notes on his phone.

“Still need a guard dog?”Gotta love Marci and her humor. “I should find a job sooner or later but Chicago’s been such a disaster that nothing’s really hiring properly and being near the police _or_ Marcone’s people make my fur itch.”

Before hit left Father Forthill looked me in the eye. I averted the glance before a soulgaze would begin but I could already see some of the true divinity in his purpose or that may have just been a side effect of nearly seeing the man’s ghost.

“There’s never going to be a moment where recovery is simply done. You’ve helped and lead others to do a commendable job and…” he trailed off and looked closer at his book, “Matters such as these which should have been buried with your grave should _be_ laid to rest. Settle this and settle back into life as what Harry Dresden could be when unfettered by pride and mistakes of the past.” I sniffled alright. I took a deep breath which was shaky at best. Marci pretended not to notice.

“It’s almost like you do this for a living.” Forthill smiled and pat my shoulder on exit.

“Almost, indeed.”


	3. The Clash Was Right

“Next on the docket, Larry Fowler v. Harry Dresden.” The bailiff announced to our entourage. There was one reporter and photographer from the _Arcane_ there, though he seemed to put away the camera and take out a sketch book instead. My duster was probably not the most common piece of clothing worn to these sorts of things but I made sure to have a regular button down underneath.

I’d caught the shirt switch Molly tried to pull on me before we got here. No one’s _that_ big a fan of The Clash.

Let me be the first one to disappoint you, this was no Law & Order. In the greige room, greige tiled ceiling, and griege desks the room with no windows could have been mistaken for an unfinished project if not for the state seal plastered in every space and the half rolled posters from the DOJ about our rights. Cook County had never seen a duller place to conduct business.

Construction and reorganization had struck everywhere in the city. The only real point of interest was the wall beside the temporary judges’ chamber. It was unfinished sheetrock and from the pounding it sounded like an active construction site.

“Nearly over, just grin and bear it.” Behind me and Father Forthill, my lawyer, were Butters, Marci, and Michael to show support. All in all this should wrap up in fifteen to twenty minutes.

Across from us were a whole host- no, that’s not the right word. A firm? No that’s worse.

Across from us was Larry Fowler’s lawyers all of whom I assume were moonlighting from their level in hell if the paperwork they’d served was any indication. Fowler, too, was there dressed like he would be during any show filming. Come to think of it he probably had to take time off in order to be here on Cook County’s orders.

I felt the rush of spite in me that at least I’d be costing him more than it was worth dealing with me. I should probably add that to my business card. I could probably get some testimonials for the Yelp.

“Dresden, what’s this I hear about you getting married?” the lawyers tried to hush him but Fowler for all of his faults was a people person. I had honestly watched paint dry with more interest than this room.

“Yup. I think she’d reworking the vows because of the til death clause.” I shrugged even as Michael groaned.

“…So you _are_ marrying the porn actress?” The reporter’s eyes went wide and hung over every word even as Marci told them to knock it off, like she hadn’t been star struck by Lara two weeks ago.

“I’m pretty sure she does other things, too.” I tried to play it off. Butters whispered for me to knock it off. We were here to settle so whatever happened before hand didn’t matter.

“What’s she then? Some sort of sex demon?” This time Butters and Marci did elbow me. The _Arcane_ report looked about ready to run out and demand a print release. 

I grinned wide enough to show my teeth.

“You’ll have to ask Arturo’s lawyers about that one.” The cohort of demons in front of me nearly shuddered and brought our ex-party conversation to an end. I might have to play nice but lawyers never did.

…

“The Honorable Judge James Harris presiding over the court on this, day June 3rd, 2016.” The bailiff continued despite no one paying attention.

The last time I’d been at jury duty, the Judge had a commanding presence over the court room. This judge…well, he was sweating enough for Fowler’s lawyers to make distasteful faces.

“Your honor,” Forthill stood and began, “I believe every party involved would simply like this matter to be resolved.” Michael smiled at me as if to hint that I was doing the right thing by not fighting tooth and nail against this asshole. The reporter started taking more notes. “We’re willing to settle” and he named about half the amount Fowler had requested.

The first chair demon spoke, “Double that and _maybe_.” I leaned over and waggled my eyebrows at Fowler. I could admit I had one ace in the hole that wouldn’t get the Accords down my throat or more glittery rebukes from Ivy.

Fowler whispered to the first and second chair monsters, leaving the third one out like a reject. The first chair spoke a number, about three quarters of the original ask, “and that I get him the names of the legitimate Bigfoot people.”

I’d asked around for River Shoulders before the whole Peace Talks mess. Fowler was _an_ option even if it wasn’t the best.

“He’s got bigfoot people.” Marci asked Butters who seemed equally as dumbfounded. I don’t think I’d managed to properly introduce them to River Shoulders when the Titan came through town. I’m pretty sure the reporter was on their third sheet of paper. Forthill nudged me to finish this up.

“I agree to these terms.” I pulled out the check, already signed and indicated that it was a settlement. The number was copied in triplicate for my taxes. This was all about to _go away_.

“Not yet. There are still a few questions I have.” Everyone, including the Bailiff, looked startled at the judge’s interruption. Fowler and his lawyer-demons frowned at one another as yet another possible billable hour gambled up. 

Sometimes it helps being more of a private investigator than a Wiz-that-wasn’t.

Judge James Harris was still sweating but it was his eyes that were the most important. They ran around the room, never focusing on a single person or object except that ugly state seal on the mounted on the wall. The hint of dark purple bruising-sleepless night and the yellowy jaundice of his sclera told me this was a man drinking in excess and hadn’t quiet stopped since.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the jury, I present to you Exhibit A of type 2: Oh god, have I gone insane.

“Your honor?” The room had been quiet for long enough for Forthill to engage himself in the man’s distress.

“The matter at hand is the m-magic being real,” We all heard the stutter. Third chair demon spoke up this time.

“That’s…we’re settling your honor?” He looked confused and young- checking with the First Chair demon before going further. “The contract stated…” It seemed the Judge was coming to grips with that he wanted.

“I’ve reviewed the m-material presented by your firm, Holzdatter,” he nodded to Chair Number One, “ and I’m concerned with some of the evidence brought by officer Rudolph. This court needs to know if the m-magic is real.” The stutter never went away but my patience sure did. Michael and Butters grabbed an arm each and pulled me down- I hadn’t even realized I was lunging forward. 

Marci shoved some of her highlighted papers about my contract to Forthill to buy some time for me to cool down.

“What the hell happened?” Was the dull sound of the foreman from behind the temporary wall after I accidently shorted out all the electrical equipment.

Larry Fowler grabbed the papers in his hand and started swatting at the third seat, who, frankly has been downsized to minion and not a demon, “I _told you_! This is how it happens!” The Bailiff didn’t know which way to turn.

“Your honor this is highly irregular,” Forthill said over the growing noise of people. I opened my mouth enough for Marci to punch me in the kidney “Do _not_ say that’s what she said,” quietly.

“Evidence has been filed and I will have it tried!” Judge Harris got a crazy look in his eye and banged the gavel.

“Sir,” I bit out. “With all due respect I will not perform magic for this court.” Butters was starting to look a little nervous. Forgot the Accords I wasn’t going to give Rudolph the satisfaction. Harris doubled down.

“You will perform magic or I will have you held in contempt!” He bellowed uselessly.

What the hell was contempt?

“Harry, think this through,” Michael whispered in my right ear. He seemed to think I knew what _contempt_ was other than the feeling Mab had when someone questioned her. If I could deal with Mab’s contempt I can sure as hell deal with this Judge’s.

“Fine.” Maybe I shouldn’t have rolled my eyes. “I’m not a performing monkey.” Forthill winced. Fowler was deep in talks with his Law Demons and Minion. Judge Harris didn’t look pleased at all. His face got red _and_ sweaty.

“Have it your way. This court finds your disposition and vulgarity wanting. You will be detained in the county jail for no less than sixty days.” He banged the gavel and nodded to his Bailiff, stunned.

“I’m going to jail?! That’s what contempt means?” My jaw dropped when I looked down at Father Forthill, who was equally shocked and began disputing with the judge. I turned around so fast the table was knocked over.

“Dresden! I want a week long deal- holy shit is this going to be good,” Larry Fowler managed to slip a few words in past his lawyers and was _still_ trying to get me back on the show. The _Arcane_ reporter was still scribbling and their cameraman-caricature was going through almost as much paper was the Demon Lawyers abstracts.

“ _You_. I am _never_ taking advice from you again,” I pointed my finger at Butters who was shaking a little behind Marci. First Rudolph and now this. What legal system was he working with? Michael grabbed my shoulder again, “And Michael if you think I’m saying sorry-“ he cut me off and looked a little pale.

“Harry. Sixty Days. If you go you’ll miss your wedding.” The blood ran from the soles of my feet to somewhere else. Maybe another dimension to cower from Mab- her words at Arctis Tor rang through clearly. If I complied with Mab, I would incur retribution from the Accords. If I complied with the Accords, I’d have broken Mab’s word.

The bailiff started approaching me with handcuffs. I blinked.

I took my keys out of my pocket and handed them to Marci, “I need you to check on the mail and the phone. Check in with Toot and Lacuna. Hope has control of the Yelp.” Maybe I was in shock.

“Harry?” The bailiff righted the table and stepped towards me cautiously like approaching a feral animal. I should have kept the shirt Molly put on me. The Clash was right: I fought the law and the law won. My Padawan was wise beyond her years. 

_Stars and Stones I hope this was made by ACME_ , I thought after I feigned out of his reach and propelled my body forwards and through the sheetrock straight into the construction site.


	4. A Monologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight heads up for torture? Catharsis?

Cook County All Points Bulletin

Issue Date June 6th, 2016

WANTED PERSON

Name: Harry Dresden

Race: White

Sex: Male

DOB: 10/31/1974

Height: 6’9”

Weight:

Hair: Brown

Eyes: Brown

LKA: Chicago, IL

Dresden is wanted for evading arrest, outstanding warrants, and is wanted for further questioning. No known aliases or passport. Approach with caution.

…

“Every good villain has an origin story. Since we can’t get any ex-wives we’re going to do the next best thing in revealing Harry Dresden. Here is the ever lovely- ever compromising- Lara Romany.” Larry winked at her and gave the second compliment sotto and playfully discreet in his introduction as she strolled from behind the scenes and took a seat. The studio lights were very familiar to her after years of acting in pornography and even a few of the more fun conventions.

At least Larry Fowler could be subtle in looking at her cleavage.

“Such a pleasure, Larry.” She simpered a little bit.

“Lara, can I call you Lara? Lara. This must be an incredibly difficult time for you- your father’s declining health and your husband-to-be… on the run.” The crowed awed and booed in equal fervor.

“He’s really not a bad man. I just- I just,” She pulled a silk handkerchief from out of her bra and pretended to dab away a few tears. She heaved a bit like she was going to hiccup and faked a sneeze as loud as she could. Thanks to some tinkering the handkerchief gave way to a small bouquet of flowers.

The crowd gasped and applauded.

“Aha! Well I guess it’s not just your ‘magic’ in the bedroom that keeps your relationship fresh.” Larry laughed when she handed the bouquet over to him.

“It’s all trade secrets, I’m afraid.”

“That’s what got us into this mess.” Larry held his hand up to a small screen that she couldn’t see. It was the recording of Harry’s last disastrous appearance on the Fowler show. He took the seat next to her.

“But let’s be candid for a moment. You’re about to marry a charlatan who is frankly on the run from the law. How do you feel?” Most of this had been scripted and confirmed ahead of time but to be authentic looking on television meant very little _could_ be real. She made to frown a little bit.

“He’s rough around some edges, but Harry really is a good man. There’s hmm,” she broke, “It is almost like there is something in the water. He’s been doing all _this_ for years now. I really don’t know why his work is such a point of interest or why he’s so startled this time.” Everyone wanted the aftermath of the Titan to go away and she’d bury the idea in any way she knew how.

Including throwing Harry under the proverbial bus. This time she made sure that a few real tears came out, “I really just wish he’d come home.”

Larry gripped her knee in a show of solidarity, “Love hurts us like that.”

“You have no idea.” She accepted the tissue box handed to her and dabbed gently as to not remove her mascara. Larry gave her the moment to compose herself and turned back to the audience and camera. Off to the side one of the managers was slightly flipping out and trying to signal to Larry.

“More than one side to every story. For every love there’s a feud. After our break my inside source, Detective Rudolph, will be joining us on why this egregious disregard of the law is a serious issue.” Overhead the signal to the crowd began as did the chanting,

“Lah-ree! Lah-ree! Lah-ree!” The camera crew side that they were off air. The manager bustled over and finally got Larry’s attention. She noticed him actually growing a little pale before turning to her again.

“Ms. Romany, I want to confirm real quick that Dresden isn’t actually going to kill me? This isn’t some mob cover up?” Lara blinked.

“I can promise he’s not going to kill you. Why would you think that?” She was careful to not give too much away but the crew’s attitude was setting off alarms. The stage manager spoke up after a few distorted audio clips from their walkie-talkie.

“Apparently Rudolph has gone missing. We’re back on air in 7, 6,” the manager back jogged and everyone reconfigured themselves. Larry dove right in.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I’ve just been informed that the decorated Detective Rudolph has officially been declared missing by the Chicago PD.” The crowd gasped without any prompting.

“The plot thickens.”

…

To: greg_ermint@fbi.gov

CC: grogers@cpd.gov; IA_blast

From: cdahl@cpd.gov

Subject: Audio Recording & Transcript – Marcone – June 6,2016 13h23m

Attachment: ccrt3459.wav

Afternoon Greg,

Thanks for the call and see attached & below. Nothing about Ruddy but I included the IA anyway.

You should double check with Legal before using any of this. The Arcane really didn’t give approval to be recorded.

Thanks,

Corrine Dahl

*****

SG: [some static after the tap started] How did you get this number?

[Speaker IDed as Sigrun Gard from previous recordings]

EB: Ethan Braind for the Arcane- do you have a few minutes to talk about Dresden and your own association with the Big Foot?

[Distorted background noise. “No, let me,” could be heard] ::Sample could not be clarified or transcribed.

JM: This is Marcone. How may I help?

EB: Sir, Ethan Braind for the Arcane. You’ve been noted to have worked with Harry Dresden in the past.

JM: I believe he would argue otherwise.

:: Refer to five confirmed and eight unconfirmed incidences. At least ten dead.

EB: Have you been made aware of Dresden whereabouts since he fled the court? Could you confirm that your mutual acquaintanceship last spring included Big Foot?

JM: [unintelligible muttering]You believe he fled from a jail sentence.[papers rustling. Another cellphone?]

EB:Uhm, sir I watched him run through a wall to escape the Bailiff. Could you confirm any of Dresden’s whereabouts regarding the Big Foot or more properly the Sasquatch people? Has Dresden gone on the run with Big Foot?

JM: [unintelligible gasping duration :45secs ]

::Is this a recording of Marcone murdering someone?

[Transcriptor’s note: No. It’s believed that he was laughing. No other audio file exists to compare]

SG: No comment. This interview is over [audible sigh].

****

…

The Paranet Boards

>Off Topic

>>Chicago Area

PINNED | No, that is not Harry Dresden posting on the board. He can’t. Stop asking.

HOT! | CPD & FBI

[MISCone] Should we be trusting the information issued by the Chicago Police Dept? They’re tapping phones but we can’t verify. Are they on the forum?

[deleted]

[deleted]

[MOD] Gary, if you want to be a MOD we’re fine with that.

[deleted]

[deleted]

HOT! | BOLO ON DRESDEN!!!!

[intotheFrey111213] This him? + bigfootwedding1.jpg

[MOD] If you persist in posting blurred out photoshopped memes of Dresden we will continue banning your account and freeze your IP.

[PoundEye] Why do you have photos from my wedding?

~~[intotheFrey8910] This him? +bigfootburgerking.jpg~~

~~[intotheFrey567] This him? +bigfootcampfire.jpg~~

[CubsFan] Can’t we just get a few of the paraneter’s together to summon him?

~~[intotheFrey234] Oh, absolutely not.~~

[greymatter] holy shit no

[AUTO!MOD] “summon” We do not advise the summoning of any spirit, entity, or supernatural being without proper supervision or prior permission. Results may be dire.

[TheMarci] AND HE IS NO LONGER TAKING PHONE CALLS. STOP CALLING.

[greymatter] We’re not actually looking to turn him?

[MOD] We ask all members of the Paranet Boards to comply with local law enforcement whenever possible.

[PoundEye] That’s a “No.”

~~[intotheFrey234] This him? +bigfoothearse.jpg~~

~~[intotheFrey1] This him? +bigfootPTAmeeting.jpg~~

[Hope_C_you_later] Guys it is okay, Dad found him.

~~[intotheFrey] I think I got his last known location. This him? +bigfootpark.jpg~~

…

There’s a very real possibility that I snapped. Went over the edge. Became an employee Mother Winter would be proud of.

I poked the fire a little bit more as the final rays of the sun set and wiped some of the exhaustion from my face which was covered in a nice two week’s worth of stubble. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d looked like a homeless person. Unfortunately, all the razor’s I’d left in my hut on Demonreach had long since rusted over. Suppose that’s what I get for trying to put my life back together. 

“Show me the way to go home,” I began strumming my guitar, “I’m tired and I want to go to bed.” Dead silence and Undead silence.

Must not be a fan of Jaws.

“You see, this is the part where you start singing. If you don’t know the words it’s ‘I had a drink about an hour ago and it’s gone right to my head,’ you’ll catch the rest. You can clap along, too.” I spoke in a very even meter which points me in direction that I have gone insane.

I started strumming again much more insistently.

“Show me the way to go home,” I bellowed. “I’m tired and I want to go to bed. I had a drink about an hour ago and it’s gone right to my head!” My solo was cut off by Rudolph’s anguished cry. Seemed he still hadn’t gotten used to being fed on no matter how gentle Yuki was about it.

He quietly sobbed at the opposite end of the fire, cradling his bloody wrist.

“Ya know,” Bill began in his southern drawl, “It’s a might shame that this _still_ isn’t the most fucked up camp we’ve had with you, Dresden.”

This, my friends, is how Camp Kaboom went from how to kill vampires to how you’re going to feed them.

…

We put Rudolph back to sleep and stashed him in a hollowed out tree trunk. If he was good enough to be a renfeild for the Reds for who knows how long, the Blacks were up next.

“We need to have a long term plan.” We fanned out on our backs atop a hill and watched as the stars started twinkling. My companions- my _friends-_ only smelled mostly like decaying corpses but they would need a lot more blood than even that asshole could provide. Yuki was absolutely right.

“I still think we should tell Carlos.” Bill was the most insistent on regrouping with the White Council.

“They would give Carlos the order to kill you before the next day.” I argued with him. Yuki had the sense to stay low and quiet. Women of any species tended to be more practical. Bill sighed- he was still drinking far less than he should be and his decrepit state showed it.

“This is why we’d come to you.”

“Monster to Monsters. Not so easy when you’re on the otherside of it.” It was something we’d fought and rehashed since they appeared on my doorstep on Mother’s Day. They claimed to not know what happened except they were clearly Black Court Vampires and sun up was minutes away.

Bill started humming, “Show me the way to go home.”


	5. Community Potluck

Being a private detective meant I could make my own hours, thank you very much. Between babysitting the underfed Black Court vampires and keeping my ears to the ground of anyone coming to look for me…I hadn’t seen mornings in a while.

Mab corrected that lapse in my agenda.

Her eyes were glistening emeralds that seemed to draw the saturation from the rest of the world away from her. I could notice these things because those eyes were maybe two inches from my face and very, very angry.

“I simply do not _comprehend_.” The words might have been uttered in the black tongue or Mordor given how much they hurt my head as my Queen and only consistent employer sat regally on a stone boulder covered in Rudolph’s dried blood.

“Er…maybe I could help?” Sometimes I was aware of the thin lines I shouldn’t cross.

“That the duality of you can be so inspiring and yet so utterly _dense_ at the same moment.” It was clear Mab didn’t want an explanation. She wanted an audience. “I supported your endeavors for a home even against the local Baron. Food has remained plentiful in the stomachs of your offspring and pets. You’re being provided a wife for sexual satisfaction and community that will _last_ past the mortal lives you choose to dwell on.” She gestured to the island- snowflakes dances around.

“Yet here you are. Alone, on an island with no food, no people, and no protections.” She got angry again, “and more importantly _of no use to anyone._ ”

There were probably dozens of reasons she saw this marriage as a good point but the fact that sex was on the hierarchy of human needs never really dawned on me.

“Stars and Stones this is you making sure I go out for walks.” I mumbled, vaguely stunned. The real life terrarium for her Winter Knight was not up to standards. I was an exotic lizard with no rock to sunbathe on. Mab ignored me.

“This could be forgiven if you were actually undermining something. You promised mediocrity only if I tampered with your mind-“ She grew in heights I had trouble looking out and blocked out the early morning sun on Demonreach. “Should this be the standard now expected of my knight give me a _reason_ to not strip every amount of grief and guilt from your being.” Just the things that made me human were minor inconveniences to be removed. 

There were a lot of mistakes one could make with a Faerie Queen and I’d probably made most of them. She was expecting a real answer from me that required thought and persuasion. Something that wasn’t me running away from the cops because I panicked.

Rudolph’s whimpers from nightmares started to be heard.

“Say, Mab.” I began to put the fragmented thoughts together. “How much trouble can there be before you’ve decided it’s enough?” She quirked an eyebrow and gave it some thought.

“I’d rather thought you and I had a rather incongruent thought on what trouble was.” Evasive and not a directive. Perfect.

“And for one of your allies?” She smirked and nodded.

“Dresden. I expect you to act on your nature.” There was that warning again.

“About that…” I bowed, I groveled, and I begged. I was demeaned.

But I got three more days. 

…

There’s a few pieces of wisdom that came from tracking down evidence in places. Much like the metaphors that nothing will ever go back properly or that paper couldn’t be unrumpled completely.

No one no matter how good you are can put everything back to where it once had been. Not with objects, not with the internet, and not with magic. There will _always_ be the disruption of entropy in the universe that something changed.

Humans evolved to sense these things.

The second piece of the puzzle goes that if you cannot return to the previous the next step and most logical step is discord. If everything is turned upside down and strewn about you cannot easily identify what the actual intent had been. Poison _both_ cups with iocaine powder if you would.

That’s to say…

Two Black Court Vampires, An Ex-Wizard, A Former Cop, a Werewolf, and a Priest walk into a bar.

Because, folks, it’s better to be in on the joke.

…

Tania Raith speed walked over to me after we’d left the bar, a manila folder of papers in her hand, and a very satisfied look on her face.

“Every time Lara tries to tell me that sex wasn’t the endorphin rush that success was I never understood her. This is _great_.” The Lawyer might be the first White Court vampire to learn how to feed on the defeat of others. Marci was the only one coming with me to handle this particular matter while the others went about their part of the plan.

“The only good part about this has been looking at attractive people all day.” Marci had been holding down the fort of proverbial Dresden business unwillingly. I finished signing the paperwork I’d had her print out before handing it back over to her. Lara would finish the rest of that.

“Oh there’s nothing _good_ about this.” This was me using my powers for evil and self-fulfillment. Two things I’d raged against for years to avoid becoming just like the monsters I fought. In instances like today I had to weigh what the greater outcome would be even if my loved ones hated me for it.

The company was okay, I guess.

“We are going to screw Marcone so hard,” Tania had a girlish charm to her voice as we made our way through the halls and waited for the Baron to see us. She deiced to not wait calmly and paced back and forth like a lioness waiting for the prey to twitch again.

“Do you have the cards?” Marci pulled the small carton out of her bag and pulled out a small handful of my brand new business cards.

“Wow these are nice. If you were working for me these would get you a promotion.” I said to butter her up.

“If an apocalypse wasn’t enough to do it you think this is?” Gard interrupted to let us know that Baron John Marcone was ready for us.

…

“Hexus,” I muttered in lieu of a greeting to fry every device in the room. There were fewer than I thought there would be.

“This is very distressing, Mr. Dresden.” Marcone started speaking scumbag immediately. I could tell he was laughing not by the smile on his face but the pure amusement in those money-green eyes. 

“Going to faint?” Marci handed two of my cards to Gard and Marcone, who’d flipped it over to read the fewer lines.

Harry Dresden, PI

Professional Inconvenience

“If you’re looking for funding on getting the word out I believe our claims department had a budget. You have personally been a line item for the better part of two decades.” He glibbed.

“I’m actually here to talk about your protection racket.” He blinked and Tania’s smile went beaming, handing over the manila folder. “Seems someone from internal investigations came to you for protection,” I grinned and showed my teeth, “from _me.”_

The DA couldn’t or wouldn’t do anything with the information and it hadn’t been enough to a real case- but Detective Rudolph had gone to John Marcone for his influence, presumably against me. It was only a little bluff. Gard scoffed.

“See reason, Dresden.” Oh, I know what reason was. What I’d just delivered to his desk was a point blank insult of the highest order.

“I can assure you that while we have always complied with the authorities we have had no ongoing coordinations with Ms. Murphy’s investigation.” His tone lost any of the jovial humor. If Rudolph came to him for protection from me he would have had to admit why. John Marcone was a ruthless son of a bitch but he disliked wasted resources and competency like he was an auditor. To imply he would conceal the crimes of her murderer on behalf of Rudolph was…problematic.

I hoped Murphy would forgive me for using her and her memory like this. Marci frowned, not liking the plan from the start but saw the good points. Maybe someday this would be the crack in the armor that finally got Marcone arrested. Whatever would get me to sleep at night.

Marcone shoved the papers back to Tania and continued, “You should be advised that our organization still complies with law enforcement- and their wanted.” He gave a very insincere smile and a shrug, “The police have been notified of your being on premises.” I took a seat.

“Well that’s a damn shame considering I’m out there cleaning up your mess, again.” Oh, if I could have taken a picture of his face.

“Excuse me?” Frostily toned still. I wish I had Bob with me to pantomime.

“Sorry, can’t.” I shrugged back at him sarcastically. “I mean after the whole bit with the Titan just prancing into your city,” Oh that had him mad. Marci moved a little like she was going to have to grow some teeth in defense. “I thought you’d be more involved with the hush up the Accords Council wants.” I peered at him as he stood silent.

“Rudolph, a Red Court Servitor very much in the know came to the Baron for protection against the Winter Knight. You failed in stopping the situation to going further and _now_ he’s turned evidence to the state about Magic.” I blinked sweetly as the details of my BOLO came rushing back.

“Why, I could only do so much myself to make sure it stayed quiet. To think you’ve let these questions just go through the courts unchecked and unaddressed!” Yeah, I was still pissed about being sent to jury duty.

“Mab’s concerned.” I mock whispered. About what I didn’t say.

“Allow me to clarify, Mr. Dresden. I am not here to erase mistakes you’d made. Should I be censoring your phone from the yellowbook or from Yelp reviews? Shall I ask for the Paranet’s IP to be frozen out of Chicago? I would dedicate myself personally to minimalizing your existence to the public.”

We’re at the portion of our program where Marcone decides to go on the offensive and erase even the slightest hint of support from his enemies. He was calm even in anger which was a skill I’d probably never accomplish.

“It’s okay to admit you need help,” I reached over the desk and pat his hand. Lara had taught me a few tricks on how to aggravate people without just hitting them. Given how often she’d baited Molly she was a master of the highest order. “I’m taking care of it for you.”

“I will ask you to not conflate your problems with my city.” I leaned back into the chair as Gard peered out the window and mentioned that the police had arrived.

“Oh, Johnny. The White Council kicked me out. I’m a free agent. Disenfranchised.” I slide my card back over to him and double tapped with my finger. Magic worked with intent. Declarations worked with the pure truth. I’d asked Mab for three days for a few reasons.

There were parts of the plan I had to get together. I had to shave.

If I was going to make a statement on who I was and what exactly was going to start happening. If I was going to take Forthill’s advise on being who Harry Dresden could be.

There were few better days for rebirth on the calendar than the Summer Solstice.

“Now I’m everyone’s problem.”


End file.
